


Restful

by creepy_shetan



Category: History Boys (2006), History Boys - All Media Types
Genre: Community: comment_fic, M/M, No Dialogue, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-05
Updated: 2014-06-05
Packaged: 2018-02-03 14:38:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1748153
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/creepy_shetan/pseuds/creepy_shetan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A quiet morning after a late night. Set during their university years.</p><p>(Originally posted 2013/3/20 as a fill for a prompt.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Restful

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SamuelJames](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SamuelJames/gifts).



Somewhere between sleeping and waking, Scripps got the funny feeling that the wall next to his bed was on the wrong side, but he didn't care because it was warm and comfortable. Before he could even think to analyze it further, steady breathing lulled him back into a deeper sleep.

~*~*~*~

Posner half-groaned, half-sighed at a beam of light that seemed to target his eyes like an eerily accurate laser. He tried to pull the sheets over his head, but they were stuck; he soon learned why as he turned away from the window and his nose almost collided with a bare shoulder.

His brain more functional with each passing second, a small part of Posner wished he did get hit in the face. He deserved it for letting Dakin convince him to drink that last pint. He scooted back a little and then immediately jerked forward, realizing that he was in danger of falling off the standard-issue narrow mattress. Who knew that Scripps hogged the covers _and_ the bed?

Looking at him partly curled on his side, however, Posner supposed that it had more to do with being used to sleeping alone. Besides, it wasn’t like his arms and legs were flailing about--

Scripps shifted, mumbling softly, and Posner fleetingly thought that he'd jinxed it, that he would get hit by a wayward limb then crash onto the floor for good measure. He opened his eyes slowly (when had he closed them?) and sighed with relief. Scripps had turned away from the wall and was now lying flat on his back, lips slightly parted, hair comically askew. From this angle and proximity, Posner could actually see the rhythmic movement of his pulse in his neck. It was strangely fascinating. 

Posner traced the somewhat visible path of capillaries down with his eyes, vaguely surprised to see his own hand reach out to slide over Scripps' undershirt and rest over his heart. The slow rise and fall didn't falter; Scripps didn't move a muscle otherwise.

A sudden indescribable urge hit Posner square in the chest. The only part he could consciously understand was that he wanted to be as close to Scripps as physically possible. Posner wanted him to wake up, but he had no clue how to express this sensation. Perhaps it was for the best that Scripps couldn’t see him now, anyway: Posner could feel a smile play along his mouth, and yet, at the same time, tears begin to sting his eyes. 

He willed the latter away as he closed the gap between himself and the still-sleeping Scripps, the other boy’s arm warming Posner’s skin through his thin t-shirt. Posner pressed a light kiss to Scripps’ throat, lingering for a moment to feel the steady beat against his lips before shifting down a bit to let his head rest over the collar bone. He soon dozed off to the reassuring touch and sound and smell that together formed a far better blanket than the scarcely available tangle of sheets.

**Author's Note:**

> The prompt: History Boys, any, somehow actually sharing a bed with someone and being vulnerable while you sleep seems more intimate than sex.  
> The theme: Free for all (none/any)  
> Originally posted [here](http://comment-fic.livejournal.com/414710.html?thread=67518454#t67518454).  
> I only own the writing.


End file.
